Choux Cream Cake

Confession

Once I slammed the door shut, I wrapped my limbs around my bolster as my insides started to boil. Perth had gotten close enough with that girl to give her his contact, it was obvious that he was infatuated with her, spending so much time and attention on Chompoo, smiling at her, getting more comfortable with her as the days passed.

But what right did I have to be angry or jealous about that? Who am I to question who he gives his contact to?

Seeing how he is now that she's here made me realise what it was that we 'had'- I was merely a fleeting interest, someone who held him close and gave him affection and didn't mind him doing the same. All that and I never asked for any kind of validation, any kind of label, never questioned what we were… or how I felt. He just moved on to the next shiny new toy. Maybe she'll be more fun.

Years of keeping up this barrier had protected me from making the same mistake I did six years ago.

I thought Perth would be different.

He wasn't.

Maybe Zee was right before, maybe I really am nothing.

Realising you're in love with someone is supposed to be magical, but realising I was in love with Perth felt like a stake to the heart. Loving never really led to anything good for me, because I was never enough- I wasn't then, and I'm not now.

I'm done dealing with heartbreak, tasting the bitterness and pain of rejection once was enough, I'm not willing to go through it again.

It will take time, but I'm determined to fall out of love. I'm saving myself this time. I'm not going to hope, I'm not going to expect, I'm not going to treat him as anything more than someone I work with. He'll be better off without me pining at him.

Non-peak hour came rolling in at the cafe, and I was once again greeted by P'Plan at the door. I huffed a soft laugh as he entered, closing the door behind him, "Welcome back, how's the view of the sunshine treating you out there?" I washed my hands off at the sink, ridding my skin of flour.

"He looks at you, you know?"

I sat across from him on my workbench, he continued, "The girl's got an iron grip on him, but I see him turn back at the kitchen every few seconds."

My heart started to recoil, then I replied to him, indifferent, "Maybe I should put out the pastries faster if he's that worried about restocking."

"I think he misses you."

"I think he's enjoying his time with N'Chompoo," I retorted.

He probably got the message that Perth was the last on my list of conversation topics. Reluctantly, he diverted to something else, anything else. Gradually, I felt myself relax into the conversation of a newfound friend, his way of speech was blunt, he had a fair sense of humor that made me laugh, it was comforting. A good distraction, freeing.

"Why do you always stay so late?" He gingerly asked after a while. "You don't need to, you know?"

I sighed, "I…  just feel like helping out, seems tiring to close on your own...lonely too." That much was true, I may not talk to him, and his presence may tick me off, but a part of me still can't leave him alone. Perth and I also lived together anyways so I might as well leave with him, but I didn't mention that because that was another round of questions I had no energy to answer.

He looked at me with sympathy in his eyes, then he said, "I see."

That night, P'Plan stayed until closing, which was rare.

Perth thought it was strange, teasing him as he wiped the counter, "You're sick, aren't you? A miracle must have happened for you to stay this late." He said while grinning at our senior turning chairs over and putting them over the tables, earning him a sarcastic smile that wiped off with a grimace.
With him there, it was less suffocating.